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Lucid Dream: Coincidentally...
This is the continuation of Lucid Dream: Masai Giraffe Attack!. Created by AllyTrish34. Just like its predecessor, it is told from Yolanda Schneider's (Yolanda the Dream Fairy) point of view. WARNING: This contains some scenes reminiscent of many mainstream teen novels (with milder themes). Plot Gloucester is a little larger than my hometown, Rye. Yeah, they're both not capital or major cities. But at least Gloucester is a city, and Rye is just a town. But they have something in common: They are located on a sea shore. Anyway, I don't sense many changes visually, but I'm excited about living here. The air is fresher and water here tastes sweeter — nah, that's just my feelings. My new house has two storeys. There is a grassy land on each the front yard and the backyard. The latter is also not too wide. Our house is plastered with beige paint and a brick-red roof. A garage sits next to the building, and bushes grow around the entire house to act as a border to neighbors' houses. My room is upstairs. Mom and Dad's are downstairs, which means I'm alone on the second floor, but I don't care. Some rooms aren't inhabited. It can be an extra room for guests who come over to our house — wow, does this mean I can bring a friend over? But she doesn't explain it completely because no friend of mine has come to my house while I live for twelve years in this world. My room is painted white. An overhead lamp hangs from the ceiling, the kind that you turn on by tugging on a chain attached to it. There's a spring bed, a bookshelf, a table, and a wooden chair. More less like my old room. For hours, I busy myself with my room; tidying up my clothes and books, putting on my favorite bed spread, which has chubby pigs all over, decorating my table, and sticking decor I need for my walls. The biggest one is a picture of a tree with a bird's cage hanging from a branch, cage door ajar. Birds are flying away from it. On other walls are just medium-to-small-sized stickers of my favorite Monster High characters. I peek out the window in my room. Mom is talking with curious neighbors. Knock! Someone knocks on my door, and I answer it. Dad is standing, smiling. It's funny to see it: Dad, with his tall body, together with Mom, who's about a head shorter than him. He steps in and adjusts his glasses. "Nice room, huh? Do you like it?" I nod with a smile on my lips. Dad plops himself on the bed and clears this throat. "You're starting school tomorrow," he says. I wait. His lips curl into a tiny smile. "There, the kids may have known each other since birth. And it doesn't stop the chances for you to make friends with them, to get used to them. But I'm sure you can." Of course it's way easier to do so than with my old friends in NH, I think, but don't say. I only shrug. "I'm also starting to do my work full-time tomorrow." He laughs and nods. Dad stands up, tapping my back. "We'll try, okay?" "Okay," I say in a tone that conceals how I am exuberant deep down. I spend my time helping Mom and Dad unpacking their things. Then they persuade me to come out to play and make friends with the neighbors, but I refuse to. Awkward friendships can be postponed until tomorrow morning. Besides, I'm a little shy. When my parents finish tidying up the house, Mom blurts out, "There's a family that invites us over. Impolite, unethical if we reject their invitation." I stare at Dad, then he nods and shrugs. I'm initially doubtful, but I nod, too. After we get satisfied with our choice, we head to our rooms and change clothes. After that, the three of us walk down the two houses on our right. The family that invites us consists of five people: Uncle Caleb, Aunt Ivy, and their three kids. Lexi, who's about my age (even though she was born earlier than me, as she's part of the majority when it comes to date of birth), and two twin brothers, Tyler and Ray. According to Aunt Ivy, Lexi goes to the same school as I am (of course!) and tries to make Lexi friends with me, but it seems like we're going to end empty-handed, and she doesn't look a tad interested. Lexi is extremely different, compared to me. She's the popular-girl type that everyone adores. She leads me to her room — obviously asked by her parents. She opens the door halfheartedly and a blast of orange-smelling air clouds us. I guess she owns a Glade. Inside, pink paint covers the walls. Ugh! Did I mention that I hate pink? Lexi points to her vanity table. "Do you want try on lipstick?" she asks. I reluctantly shake my head. She hisses, "You're no fun." She walks away, heading downstairs. Confused, I follow her. Lexi stops dead in her tracks before walking down the stairs. "Oh. Don't greet me at school tomorrow, okay? Pretend we don't know each other?" "Why?" I ask, puzzled. Lexi rolls her eyes. Probably because I'm not fun. Great. My first school friend's opinion is that I'm not fun. Just because I don't want to try on lipstick, doesn't mean I'm weird. Maybe, there really is hope in this city. * * * My new school is much larger than the previous one. I study the national flag swaying side to side on a flag pole at the school gate. People walk past me without catching a glimpse of me; some stare at me inquisitively. I walk to homeroom with a little symphony playing in my head: We broke down, Tryna' leave town Flying down the road to change We were born to run Cali, here we come Escape from Nowhere, U.S.A. Say goodbye to white picket fences Say hello to palm trees and Benzes Sometimes you gotta fall to have it all No, we don't want two kids and a wife I don't want a job, I just want a life Sometimes the underdogs rise and the mighty fall This ain't the same summer song that you used to know Coz Jack left Diane thirty years ago The world is spinning too fast for you and me So tell me whatever happened to the American Dream This ain't the same summer song that you used to know So baby, let's live and die before we're getting old You know that nothing is the way it used to be So tell me whatever happened to the American Dream Na na na Na na na na Na na na na na na ("American Dream", by MKTO) I finally reach my classroom, 10C. It's clear that the bell hasn't rung yet: some seats are empty despite having books and stationery on them, and some students are talking to their friends. Great. Dad is right. I sit awkwardly on a chair, far from those who have known each other for so long. They gather with their friends, talking about their holiday, and stare at me from head to toe. Thankfully, two girls approach me with earnest smiles on their faces. They hold out their hands to shake mine. "I'm Tristan," says the girl with blond curls. She gestures toward her friend, who has wavy pale pink hair and, slate blue eyes. "And this is Rafaela." Tristan focuses on me. "You're new here, right? As you can see, everyone has known each other since birth, so new kids stand out." I think a little about their names. One has a masculine name, and the other one has an uncommon, yet unusual name. I decide to let it ride. "I'm familiar with that system. Different state, same system. Yolanda." Rafaela speaks up. "Sorry, where do you come from?" "Rye, New Hampshire." I shrug. She's a little nosy. Rafaela nods. Then Tristan heads toward my table and sits at the empty table next to me, while Rafaela remains next to her friend. "So...there hasn't been a new student here?" I say. "Yeah, sometimes, someone enrolls here once or twice. The seniors have some, too," replies Rafaela. She tends to speak too fast. That's okay. I'm used to it. "I heard, you live next to Lexi Schwarz's. Do you join her gang?" I furrow my brows. "What gang?" Rafaela and Tristan look over their shoulders to see Lexi and her cronies talking and laughing noisily. I can't resist the urge to do so. I cringe. "Oh. No, I don't. Lexi says I'm no fun." Tristan smirks. "Good. What isn't fun for Lexi, is fun for us usually." I giggle, just when the bell rings. Our English teacher introduces herself — Mrs. Bloom. For most kids, this is their second year in this school, so I thought the teacher wouldn't do so. It is a pleasant surprise, nevertheless. Just when she finishes her introduction, a boy with dark hair walks in. With his green eyes, he kind of reminds me of an Antarctosaurus ''in ''Land Before Time. He dons huge glasses, and, surprisingly, the white frames are owlish. A backpack hangs from his back. He's holding a Bunsen burner in his right hand, and a bread slice on the other — gloved — hand. It looks like he's unaware of both things on his hands right now. But he quickly realizes it and scorches his bread with the burner in a hurry — Mrs. Bloom looks worried — and eats it rushedly. "Sorry, Mrs. Bloom," he talks through a mouthful of toasted bread. "I haven't had breakfast." Laughter fills in the class's atmosphere. Mrs. Bloom folds her hands, waiting for the kid to finish his food. He wipes the crumbs out of his face when he finishes. Mrs. Bloom nears him, unclipping her hairclip that holds her bangs. She looks downward and says, "I forgot to take it off. I used it when I rinsed my face. Not that I applied make-up..." Mrs. Bloom takes off the boy's shades and taps her Nine West stiletto heels. "Devin Verona. Late on the first day. Wearing strange glasses. Burning bread with a Bunsen burner, and eating it in front of the whole class." She stares at him sharply. "Tell me, why are you late?" "Caught in a zugzwang, Mrs. Bloom," he confidently answers. Our teacher winces. "Caught in a what?" "I woke up on time, but my brother threw up all over the stairs. It was because he had gone skinny-dipping in my swimming pool last night. So he got ill and threw up. If I woke up, I would be the one to get the job of cleaning the mess. My mother knows it takes up a lot of time. Because the puke flowed down the stairs..." Mrs. Bloom grimaces in extreme disgust, so the boy stops explaining. "Zugzwang ''is a word to describe a desperate situation." "Sit!" Mrs. Bloom yells, massaging her head. The kid smirks widely and tucks himself at the nearest empty table. "I hope, no one else is late to my class. Devin! '''Sit at the front!'" Devin Verona spins around and walks forward. He stops by my seat, scanning me like other kids, but much, much more impolitely. He smugs too widely that his eyes narrow, like a little child opening a Christmas present. "Ah, serendipity," he utters in a singsong way. I furrow my brows, confused, as he plunks his bag down on the chair next to me and sits on it. He leans his head, "Or...zemblanity?" "Yolanda," I correct him, thinking that he's trying to guess my name. "Yolanda Natalia Schneider, yes, I know." He nods cockily. I'm tongue-tied. ''How did he know my middle name? ''I think. Devin looks upward and shrugs. "Math." Category:AllyTrish34's pages Category:Fan Art Category:Fan art Category:Fan Fiction Category:L Category:Lucid Dream Category:C